


Supercut

by nancypants (cah_avengers)



Series: Kepcobi Melodrama [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Gun Violence, M/M, from SI-5 up to the current events on the Hephaestus, seriously you probs shouldn't read if you're not caught up, they're not good people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12899712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cah_avengers/pseuds/nancypants
Summary: A supercut of Kepler and Jacobi's relationship from the beginning to end of SI-5





	1. Learning

**Author's Note:**

> I'm the worst at coming up with titles. And I know Lorde's music is way too sentimental and beautiful for these evil jerks, but I just love her and I love them so here we are. Part two is finished, just wanna reread and edit a couple more times before I post it.

“Good morning, Warren!”

“Mr. Cutter...what a nice surprise.” Warren put on his most professional smile as Cutter placed a hand on his shoulder to steer him away from the elevator. 

“Warren...have I told you what good work you’ve done, lately?” Cutter asked.

 “Well, sir, I generally assume I’m doing something right as long as the paychecks keep coming.”

“Love that. I’m always telling Rachel how much I love your humor,” Cutter chuckled and led Warren into his office. 

Warren cleared his throat and glanced around. “So, was there something specific that stood out to you?” 

“Well...in general, you’re doing quite a bang-up job, but I think it’s time you went back to your roots.”

“Oh...” From Cutter's tone and posture, Warren couldn’t tell if this conversation was going well or about to take a nosedive. “Is that so?”

A wicked grin spread across Cutter’s face. “I'm sure you’re having loads of fun as Director of Intelligence, but you’re really at your best when you’re leading, Warren. And by that I don’t mean calling shots from behind a desk. I think it’s time you hand picked your own team...for special ops.”

This was exactly what Warren wanted to hear. He perked up. “You’re going to put me back in the field?"

“Pick your team. You’ll need four agents; I’m sure you’ll need no assistance with picking the right people for the job. Do whatever you’d like, as long as I end up with a beautiful little quintet of black ops agents. Now, how does that sound?”

It sounded like a lot of work, but Warren liked a challenge. And he’d been itching for real action since he’d gained his new title. “It sounds doable. I’d be happy to.”

“Great! Hey, what’s the name of that whiskey you like? Ah, I’m sure it’s in your file. I’ll get you a bottle to celebrate our new endeavor. In the meantime, get to work and make me happy.”

“Uhm, sir? I know she’s already making quite a difference in the advancement of our AI program, but if I’m going to have the best, I need Maxwell.”

“Hmm...She is quite the asset and a personal favorite of you-know-who...But I'll convince her that Maxwell will be more useful on your team.”

Warren smiled; he always liked getting his way. “Thank you. I’ll get right to work, sir.”

 

By the time he reached the R&D department where he would find his next pick for the team, Warren had already began narrowing down his list for the last two to round out the team. 

Warren swung open the doors to one of the many workshops in the compound, and grabbed a spare set of safety goggles before strolling up behind one of his candidates.

The man had an intricate circuit board on the table before him. He was hunched forward, staring closely as he soldered a wire into place. 

“How’s it coming along, Mr. Jacobi?” Warren murmured. “Delicate work, hm?” 

Jacobi huffed and leaned back in his chair, turning to look over his shoulder at Warren. “Just fine, thanks. Oh...it’s you.” Jacobi set down his soldering iron and swiveled the stool to fully face him.

“So you remember me?”

“Yeah, I mean...I was unemployed until your uh...visit. Though you were disappointingly absent when I turned up for the interview.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’ve had a lot on my plate. But I hear you’ve been rather useful in this department...so I haven’t personally needed your unique skills until now.”

“Until now?”

“I’m considering you for a position working directly under me. One that comes with a significant pay raise.”

“...I’m listening.”

 

Jacobi’s talents lied in building things. But his specialty was in explosives. To balance out the team, Warren recruited a brilliant woman named Park Min-Sun, a medical doctor turned biochemical engineer. And for a little extra muscle, there was Leo Walter, expert in ballistics, and just the right sort of soldier for the job. 

At last Warren’s team, his SI-5, as Cutter named it, was complete.

Walter was already up to par physically, demonstrating excellent skill in hand to hand combat, and of course, weapon accuracy. Dr. Park was accomplished in Taekwondo, though it was a little rusty at first, being almost irrelevant in her daily life since teenage competitions. But Maxwell and Jacobi...they needed work.

Daily, Warren would send Park off to the shooting range with Walter, then drag the other two to the gym for training.

Maxwell and Jacobi, as Warren quickly learned, got along too well. After three hours with little success on the training mat, Warren could feel a headache coming on.

“Do I need to separate the two of you?! God, you’re like children!”

Jacobi pulled Maxwell up from the floor and the two of them looked to Warren with mock innocence.

“If I have to train you idiots separately, we’ll be behind schedule. Do you know what Mr. Cutter really doesn’t like? I’ll give you one guess.”

“Uh...his employees being behind schedule?” Jacobi supplied.

“Bingo! Nicely done, Jacobi. Now, if you’d like to  _keep your jobs_ , I’d suggest you put whatever playground crushes you have a aside, and  _focus_!” Warren stared at them, waiting for a response.

Maxwell and Jacobi glanced at each other, and when they both started laughing, Warren’s knuckles went white as he squeezed his hands into fists.

He took a deep breath and steadied himself, smiling pleasantly. “Would either of you care to enlighten me as to what you found so humorous?”

“Uhm,” Maxwell began, “You see, it’s funny because Daniel isn’t...well he and I couldn’t see each other as—“

“Oops, never mind, I don’t give a shit! But you know what? It’s fine. Let’s see how you both fare, shall we? I have an assignment lined up, and really, the sooner we get started the better. Park, Walter, and I will watch our own asses, and if necessary, leave you both to die at the hands of mercenaries. Because ultimately, you are replaceable to me. How does that sound? If it doesn't sound scary enough, I can go into  _graphic_  detail—“

“Enough.”

Warren raised a brow and moved to stand in front of Jacobi. “Enough?”

Jacobi met his gaze. “Yeah, I said enough. We get it. So we aren’t learning as quickly as you’d like, but what do you expect when you thrust two nerds into something like this?! It’s been a week. Give us a fucking break. We’re trying.”

Warren’s headache pounded in his temples. “Mr. Jacobi...if I wanted your input, I would ask. Maxwell, go do your target practice.”

“Colonel, we can do this. Let’s try the drill one more—“

“Did it sound like there was room for negotiation?! Do as I said,  _now_ , Maxwell!”

“Yes, sir,” Maxwell sighed and picked up her water bottle from the edge of the training mat. Warren waited, meeting Jacobi’s unwavering gaze while they listened to her retreating footsteps.

Warren softened, putting on an inviting smile. “Daniel, I’m sure you’ve noticed a few of my scars. You know, I received these despite the fact that I am highly skilled in combat, and a brilliant tactician. Remind me, are you either of those things?”

“No, sir,” Jacobi ground out.

“Hm. I like you, Daniel. I think you make a lovely addition to the team. I think what you can do is impressive, so I don’t want you dead. If you’re a slow learner, then show me you can make up for it in work ethic. No more group training. You’re going to meet me down here for one-on-one at 0500 hours every day for as long as I like, until I’m satisfied with your results.”

“I...yes, sir.”

“Great! And just because I like you so much, I’ll let you and Maxwell hit the shooting range at the same time. Unless, of course, we have the same problem there as we did here. Do you think we’ll have that problem, Mr. Jacobi?”

Jacobi sighed. “No. Alana and I will be professional.”

“All right, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear. I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

Splitting the wonder twins up was ultimately the right call. Warren had to put more time into their separate training than he would have liked, but in the end he was left with two competent, and obedient soldiers.

They were ready.

 

“Do it, Jacobi. We haven’t got all night,” Warren placed a hand on Jacobi’s shoulder and leaned in close to his ear. “You can do this for me, can’t you?”

The hands that held the gun pointed at their unconscious mark shook. Jacobi didn’t answer.

“Come on...this is an easy one for your first time. He’s not even conscious. If it helps, you can pretend he’s dead already,” Warren purred, reaching out to steady Jacobi’s hands.

Warren glanced up at Maxwell, who was watching with a grim expression on her face. She clearly wanted to step in, to stop this and keep Jacobi from having to pull the trigger. But she stayed silent.

He now looked back at Jacobi. “You’re testing my patience.”

“We need to move. Let me just do this and get it over with,” Walter huffed.

“No, no...he can do it. He  _will_  do it,” Warren insisted, watching the emotions play out on Jacobi’s face. “You have exactly ten seconds before I take that gun away and make you do it with a knife instead.”

Jacobi’s eyes squeezed shut and Maxwell took a step closer. “Colonel..”

“Ten...nine,” Warren began counting. Park was antsy, tapping her foot and constantly looking toward the windows like she was expecting an ambush. “Five, four—“

Jacobi took a deep breath and opened his eyes. When they refocused on the mark, he squeezed the trigger. He fired off three rounds into the mark's chest.

Warren smiled and stood up straight, patting Jacobi’s shoulder. “Well done. Let’s wrap this up, team.”

The man coughed and spluttered as blood filled his lungs. Jacobi stood, frozen, watching all of it play out. The body convulsed, searching for some sort of relief for the pain, gasping for oxygen.

As Warren stepped out of the room he realized Jacobi hadn’t moved. He looked to Maxwell. “Deal with him.”

She nodded and ran to Jacobi, taking the gun and shoving it into his holster. She took his hands into hers and whispered things that Warren couldn’t hear. But he waited and watched as Jacobi lifted his emotionless eyes to meet Maxwell’s gaze and allowed her to guide him out of the room.

Jacobi needed to be desensitized. They couldn’t afford to spend ten minutes coddling him every time Warren gave him the order to pull the trigger on someone. He could blow up a room full of marks with just a flinch, but anything face to face made him freeze.

 

Several weeks later, the mission plan left them expecting opposition no more than a few security guards, but more came, and they were left vulnerable, thrown off balance.

“Jacobi!” Warren grabbed Jacobi’s vest and yanked him behind cover. “Where’s your gun?!”

“I’m out of ammo, I...”

“Where’s your extra magazines?”

Jacobi looked frantic, patting his vest and pockets down. “I don’t know! I can’t find them!”

Warren growled and reached down, grabbing the knife in Jacobi’s belt and yanking it free. He flipped it and caught the blade, then pushed the handle into Jacobi’s hands. “Try not to die.”

Jacobi’s jaw set then his eyes unfocused, looking past Warren.

A moment later, Warren was shoved aside, and Jacobi lunged forward, sinking his knife into the belly of a woman who was lifting a machete to swing down into Warren’s neck.

She made a terrible sound and slumped forward and to the side, pulling off of Jacobi’s knife. Warren’s eyes quickly flicked to Jacobi’s face, which was quickly becoming a mask of disbelief and regret.

Footsteps. He didn’t have much time to assess the situation, but without a gun, Jacobi wasn’t going to be much more help at the moment, so Warren turned and pointed his gun at the doorway. He dropped four armed civilians as they rushed the room.

Apparently this town was full of people willing to die to protect their precious artifacts.

Finally Warren turned back to Jacobi, who he found trying to wipe the blood from his hands off on his tactical vest. Warren grabbed his arm and dragged him through the door and down the hallway. They needed to rendezvous with the rest of the team and get out now. God knew how many more people would come to protect the sacred “artifact” that Goddard knew better of. It was alien. And it looked important.

They helicoptered out of the city, taking light gunfire as they retreated. This was a mess, a poorly planned mission, and Warren knew Cutter would have his ass for it. But right now he was focused on his team.

“Daniel. Daniel, are you hurt?” Park tried to snap Jacobi out of his haze.

“He’s fine, Dr. Park, that’s not his blood. You need to tend to Maxwell’s arm,” Warren said.

Maxwell had been shot, and she was looking a little pale, he thought. But they’d be at a safe house soon enough, with a fresh blood supply and plenty of sterile equipment for digging that bullet out.

Once Walter brought the helicopter down, he and Park walked Maxwell down the ramp and disappeared straight into the house.

Warren approached Jacobi. “You know, Maxwell will be fine.”

Jacobi looked up at him, then toward the house. “Oh yeah, I’m sure she will.”

Warren’s brow furrowed. Jacobi hadn't so much as looked at Maxwell for the duration of the flight. “Let’s go inside.”

He took Jacobi inside, past the medical room, to a spacious bathroom. He unbuckled Jacobi’s vest and pushed it off, then pushed up his sleeves before bringing his hands down into the sink.

Jacobi stood, silent, while Warren scrubbed at the drying blood with soap and water.

“Daniel...” he said quietly, not lifting his eyes from his work, “you did well tonight.”

“Right...I killed a woman.” Jacobi stared down into the sink, watching the bloody water drip down the inside of the basin and swirl around the drain.

“She would have killed me,” he shrugged. When Jacobi didn’t respond, Warren paused to look up at him. “Daniel, this is our job, all right? Sometimes people die. You protected your commander, that’s all.” Warren grabbed a towel off the sink and dried both of their hands. “You look like shit, though. Let’s find you some different clothes and then you can go see how Maxwell is doing.”

Jacobi took a deep breath and followed.

“You can’t go catatonic every time you kill someone.”

“I know that,” Jacobi huffed. “But would you at least have an ounce of compassion? I’m trying here. I mean, I killed her, right? I didn’t freeze or else you would be dead right now. It’s going to take me some fucking time to get used to it.”

Warren watched him, following Jacobi's movements as he pushed past him to open up a drawer, observing the tremor in his hands as he looked for something that might fit him. Warren closed the door behind them. “I am showing you compassion. I’m not yelling or threatening; I’m helping. Trust me, I know what you’re feeling.”

“Yeah? Is that how you show compassion? By telling me what I'm doing wrong?”

“I show 'compassion' by having your back while you work through this shit. Have you noticed how you come out unscathed every time this happens? That’s because I don’t leave your side, and I get you the fuck away from danger once the mission is successful.”

Jacobi set out a clean shirt. “I thought your plan was to ‘leave our asses to the mercenaries’ if we couldn’t handle ourselves. Is that why Alana got shot?”

“No, Alana got shot because things didn’t go to plan. I can’t babysit you both, but Park and Walter did their jobs; they kept her alive.” Warren sat on the rickety bed.

“So why not just let them kill me if I’m so useless?”

Warren rolled his eyes and began to shed his tactical equipment. “That’s not how I do things; you’re my team. And besides, you’ll get used to it. Park has gotten there, Maxwell does what she has to do, and soon, you won’t even blink when you pull the trigger.”

"Was a little more personal than pulling a trigger this time," Jacobi was staring through his hands, probably torturing himself with the memory of how the dying woman had looked.

"Same principle."

They were both silent for a while.

“And...you’re not useless," Warren sighed. " I wouldn’t have put you on this team, or allowed you to remain on it for so long if you were useless.”

Jacobi laughed and turned to look at Warren.

“What’s so funny?”

“This. You trying to comfort me.”

Warren smirked and raised a brow. “Is that what this is? I was just telling you the truth.”

“Yeah, well, it sounded suspiciously like reassurance to me,” Jacobi said as he tugged off his blood stained shirt.

“Coincidence,” Warren murmured.

Compared to the others on the team, Jacobi was softer. He didn’t have the muscle definition that Park had or the stature that Walter had. He looked...normal. Like a man thrust into a place he didn’t belong. And really, he didn’t belong in this life. Bad luck had left him no choice but to take Goddard’s job offer. So here he was, ridding himself of blood stained clothing in a South American town he’d never heard of, after assisting to steal an artifact, of which he didn’t know the exact nature.

None of Warren’s team knew exactly what their work was accomplishing here. That was strictly need-to-know information. Their previous missions had been about protecting the progress Goddard was making toward clean energy advances in the biomedical industry. For all they knew, this was just a sacred artifact in a remote town that Goddard really wanted them to steal.

Warren sighed and stood up. “We won’t be leaving until the morning. Go check in with Maxwell and then get some rest.”

 

The safe house was stocked with several bottles of alcohol, so Warren poured a glass for himself, then another when Park emerged from the hallway.

“Thanks, Colonel,” she sighed and took the glass, moving into the living room to have a seat on the couch.

Warren followed, opting for a classy high backed arm chair that made him feel like a Bond villain. “Did you see Jacobi?”

“Mm...I did. He came in as I was cleaning up.”

“How did he look?”

“Well...I’m not a psychologist, but I’d say he looked better. I think being with Alana calms him.”

“And how is she?”

Park smiled and tucked her legs beneath herself, leaning more fully into the arm rest. “She’s fine. Once I got an IV started she was back to wise cracking and being a little bit of a pain in the ass. She didn’t lose too much blood, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get a little more in her. Once that’s finished, she’ll be good to go.”

“Good. And Walter?”

“Already passed out, I expect.”

“You should go get some sleep too, Sun. We have a long day of lecturing ahead of us back at Goddard,” Warren chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

“Oh great...though I expect our esteemed leader and tactician might be receiving the brunt of it.”

“Don’t remind me,” he sighed.

Park laughed and knocked back the rest of her drink, wincing slightly at the taste and burn of it. “This should make me sleep like a baby. You get some rest too, Kepler.”

Warren watched Park leave before he finished his drink and stood up. He probably wouldn’t be sleeping tonight; he wanted to examine the artifact before he had to hand it over to Cutter.

Several hours into the night, Jacobi shuffled into the kitchen. Warren watched him pour two glasses of alcohol and grab a package of jerky out of the cabinet. Warren stood, and before Jacobi could escape back into the hallway, he loudly dropped his folded onto the counter.

Jacobi flinched and looked over his shoulder, the plastic bag of jerky dangling from his teeth. “Colonel...didn’t see you there. Figured you’d be asleep.”

“Those both for you?”

“Uhhh...” Jacobi glanced down at the glasses.

“I know you wouldn’t be dumb enough to give Maxwell scotch while she’s on pain meds. Right?”

Jacobi closed his eyes and sighed. He set the glasses and package down on the counter and folded his arms. “She got shot, all right? The situation is starting to settle in, and honestly, she could use a little help. So I’m helping.”

“Dr. Park could sedate her if—“

“No. This is what she needs. Just trust me.”

Warren raised a brow and looked Jacobi over. The color had returned to his face, and he looked much better than he had several hours ago. “All right. You know her best, I’ll let you make that call.”

Jacobi blinked in surprise and half smiled. “Okay, yeah...thanks.”

“Have a drink, then you both need to get some rest. Our break once we get back to HQ won’t be too long this time.”

“Yes, sir. Understood.” Jacobi smiled.

Warren grabbed his folder and returned to his armchair.

As Jacobi was almost through the doorway, he turned back to look at Warren. “Sir. It won’t happen again...I won’t freeze next time. 

Jacobi looked determined, so Warren just nodded, effectively dismissing him.

 

The next three missions went beautifully. Warren’s team preformed to the best of their abilities. Any unforeseen circumstances were dealt with promptly and without fuss.

Warren made a point to watch Jacobi closely, taking note of how his gun was drawn even before signs of company. How, when instructed to pull the trigger, Jacobi had worn that familiar face of detachment that Warren had seen so many times on countless soldiers’ faces. On one occasion, he’d even shot a mark who had stepped out of line, planning to swing a crowbar at Warren as a last ditch effort. Warren could have easily subdued the attacker, but Jacobi had killed them without even waiting for an order.

The man became eager to please, and easier to command. He did not question or hesitate; he preformed.

 

Assignments began to come less often. There was more time spent at headquarters than Warren had accustomed himself to, so he set out to find his team members.

He found the wonder twins and Dr. Park sitting together in Jacobi’s room, passing a flask between them. “Walter and I weren’t worthy of invites to the slumber party?”

They all turned and looked up at him. Jacobi frowned and set down the flask next to his bed. “Does this look like a slumber party?” 

“A little bit. Now you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Park and Maxwell exchanged glances.

“Would you like to guess what’s going on, Colonel?” Park smirked.

“Not particularly, no. Maxwell?”

Maxwell bit her lip. “Should we let him in on the game?”

“What game?” Warren asked, interest suddenly piqued.

“Can’t you tell it’s a verbal game, Kepler?” Jacobi now.

Warren thought for a moment, then a slow smile spread over his face. “Yes but would you care to confirm the rules for me?”

“Do you really need us to?” Park.

“How can I play if I don’t know the rules?”

Maxwell grinned. “Did you think that by asking us what the rules are, you'd get one of us to lose?”

Warren thought this might be fun.

Two hours later, Park and Maxwell were huddled together on Jacobi’s couch, half asleep watching a nature documentary, having tapped out early on when it was clear Warren was not going to give up the questions game easily.

Warren sat cross-legged on Jacobi’s bed, grinning at the man who was growing increasingly more irritated.

“Can we please end this?” Jacobi groaned.

“Don’t you know how simple it would be for you to end this?” Warren countered.

“And let you win?” Jacobi sighed. “Fine, I’m done. Congratulations, Kepler, you are the new champion of Questions.”

Warren smiled predatorily and leaned closer to Jacobi. “So what do I get for winning?”

“There...was never a prize on the table.”

“Nothing? Well that’s a shame...” Warren stretched out and leaned back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. He glanced over to see the girls had fallen asleep, Maxwell curled up against the arm rest with Park’s head resting on her thigh.

Jacobi yawned and slid out of his bed to turn off the tv.

Warren watched him. “So...did I interrupt something? Ruin any plans?”

Clearly, his meaning wasn’t plain enough. Jacobi raised a brow in question.

Warren rolled his eyes. “You and Maxwell upgrade to a threesome?”

“I...excuse me?” Jacobi looked like he was torn between laughing or being mortified at the question, cheeks quickly reddening.

“Well, usually I find only you and Maxwell when I go looking.”

Jacobi settled on laughing. “God, you’re an idiot.”

For some reason, that didn’t anger Warren. He couldn’t help but smile in response. “Oh, am I? Well please, enlighten me. I think I oughta know what’s going on between my teammates.”

“Yeah well, Alana is my friend. My very, very good friend. And Sun miraculously happens to be our friend too. So we spend time together outside of missions on occasion. You know how that works, Kepler? Friendship?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Daniel.”

“Well. I’m not even attracted to women, so you couldn’t have been more wrong in your assumption.”

Warren raised a brow. “I see.”

“...what?”

“Nothing, Daniel. Just didn’t know that about you.”

Jacobi smirked. “Hm. I seem to remember you claiming to know everything about us on more than one occasion.”

“And now I do. Thank you for trusting me with this information, Jacobi.” Warren liked this; it felt comfortable.

“Mm...not everything.”

“Well, I’m all ears.”

Jacobi stared at him for a moment, possibly considering, then shook his head. “Don’t think so, Colonel.”

Warren laughed and sat up. “We should get the girls back to their rooms, hm? Don’t care to hear Park complain about her neck hurting at breakfast.”

Maxwell was Jacobi’s responsibility, so Warren tapped Park’s arm.

“Let’s go, darlin,” Warren murmured, giving her a hand up.

Jacobi snorted. “Did I just hear that come out of your mouth?”

“What’s the problem, sweetheart?” Warren asked, smirking back at Jacobi. “Doesn’t line up with your image of me?”

“No. Actually, it doesn’t. Because you’re  _Warren Kepler,_ the man who once slaughtered a bear with just a knife and his wits and fed a small village for several days with the meat.”

Park an Maxwell groaned in unison.

“Daniel, please don’t. He’s going to launch into another story,” Maxwell warned.

“Hey, now, I’ve got plenty of stories that you haven’t heard. I have hidden depths too,” Warren grinned.

“Another time, Colonel,” Park said, patting his chest. “I’m going to bed.” 

“All right, fine. I’ll save them for the missions. Gotta keep the kids entertained, right?” The look of dread on all of their faces delighted him.

 

“Well,” Warren sighed and tugged down the face mask of his balaclava. He looked to the sky, blinking against the tiny snowflakes beginning to fall. “We won’t make it to the pickup point in that storm that’s coming. We’ll have to camp out.”

The others said nothing, waiting for direction.

“Walter, put Herman’s body out into the snow. We’ll stage it later. Maxwell, Jacobi, get the furnace going with the rest of his firewood. Park and I will collect what fuel we can before it gets too dicey out here.”

A beautiful chorus of “yes, sir”, and his team split up. The scientist they’d paid a visit to had defected from Goddard, thinking this remote mountain shack was secret enough to keep him hidden. But SI-5 found him. And now he was dead. It’d be easy enough to dump his body somewhere in the sparse woods, let the snow cover him up. If anyone ever found him, which wasn’t likely to happen any time soon, they’d expect he died of starvation, cold, etc. No muss, no fuss. It was really a rather easy job compared to their normal laundry list of errands.

The blizzard, however, had been unexpected. Luckily they could use Herman’s cabin for shelter, but they’d have to ration the only meal they’d packed for last however long the storm kept them pinned down. Fortunately, they’d been through worse.

It was cramped inside the cabin. For one person, it was just barely big enough to live in. For five, it was just barely big enough to fit into. Park had priority on the bed. They were on a rotating schedule, since uncomfortable sleeping arrangements were all too common for the team. If he wanted, Warren could demand it, but he felt giving them some sense of control over little things built a more trusting atmosphere. They’d look at Warren as part of the team instead of just their commander. They were easier to command that way.

With Park comfortably settled into the bed, and Walter leaning on his backpack against the wall, Maxwell, Jacobi, and Warren were left to figure out arrangements in the middle of the floor. They divested themselves of their thick outerwear to make as decent of a bed as possible.

“Right...” Warren clapped his hands together. “Anyone up for a bedtime story? Have I told you about the time I spent sixteen days staked out on the Appalachian trail to catch a fugitive fr—“

“Yes.” Jacobi buried his face in his hands. “You have. Actually twice now.”

“Gosh, Kepler, I think you must have told us all of them by now,” Maxwell smiled and shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to manage without a story tonight.”

Park snickered and Walter snorted.

Warren sighed and sat on the floor. “Fine, I can take a hint.”

“I’d  _love_  to hear a story, Colonel,” came Walter’s voice.

“You little—“ Park grabbed the lumpy pillow under her head and threw it at Walter.

He laughed.

“I’m flattered, Lieutenant, but you kids need rest. I’ll have to grace you with a story on the trip home.”

“Thank god,” Jacobi sighed and removed his glasses.

Wordlessly, Maxwell held out her hand, and Jacobi placed his glasses in her palm. She tucked the glasses into their case and crawled over to put the case with their backpacks.

Warren thought it was cute. Maxwell was charismatic, brilliant, and beautiful, yet the only person she had any meaningful connection with was Jacobi. But, Warren suspected, Park was starting to edge in as well. 

Jacobi yawned and lied back, tucking his rolled up sweater under his neck.

“Y’all ready for lights out?”

His crew made noises of agreement, and Warren hit the lights before stretching out on the floor, the wall to his one side, and Jacobi on the other.

He didn’t sleep, but instead drifted between half dreaming and awareness. He had been dreaming about playing golf with Marie Curie and Oscar Wilde when he was suddenly brought to awareness by movement near him.

Instinctively reaching toward his gun, Warren opened his eyes to find that Jacobi’s head was no longer resting on his makeshift pillow. Warren lifted his cheek from his own pillow and looked up. Jacobi was sitting, hunched over, resting his head in his hands. Warren looked over to see if Maxwell was already waking up to handle the situation, but even in the dim light, he could tell she was out cold. The hike from the helicopter to the cabin had been draining on them all.

“Daniel?”

Jacobi’s head quickly snapped up and he looked at Warren over his shoulder, squinting through the dark and past his poor vision.

“You all right?” Warren asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Uh, yeah. Just super uncomfortable,” Jacobi lied, taking a shaky breath.

“Nightmare?”

Jacobi didn’t answer.

“Only cure for that is not sleeping.”

Jacobi scoffed. “Doubt that. Meds and/or booze might work quite nicely. Or, you know, not spending so much time murdering people.”

Warren sat up now, crossing his legs and watching Jacobi closely. “You having doubts?”

Jacobi sighed. “No, I’m not; I believe in what we’re doing. But that doesn’t make the nightmares go away.”

Warren hummed in agreement. He really didn’t have any words of advice or reassurance. Their job was messy and though you could become desensitized to the things you did, your subconscious never really gave you a break. So, he offered what he could. “You want a drink?”

Jacobi raised a brow. “You packed alcohol after you told us this was an essentials only trip?”

Warren just smirked and reached for the flask hidden in his backpack.

“God...of course you did,” Jacobi laughed.

“Shh. I don’t want to have to share with anyone else.”

Jacobi rolled his eyes and took the flask before Warren could hand it to him.

Warren gave up on sharing the whiskey once he realized Jacobi was quickly on his way to being drunk. If they both had hangovers tomorrow, things could go badly.

“God, and Alana...she’s just so...fffucking smart, you know? Half the time she says stuff and I’m just like...wow! What?!” Jacob sighed and finally managed to screw the cap back into place after working on it for a solid minute.

Warren watched him, half amused, half horrified at himself for enabling his subordinate to get drunk on a mission. “Yeah, she really is brilliant.”

Warren held out his hand and Jacobi returned the flask.

“So how do you do it?” Jacobi asked, clumsily rearranging his makeshift bed.

“Do what?”

“Be alone.”

Warren watched as Jacobi struggled to roll his sweater back into a suitable pillow for long enough that he became frustrated and snatched it away to fix it himself. “I’m not alone. I have a team.”

“Not the same,” Jacobi insisted.

“Why not?”

“We’re not your friends...we’re your employees or soldiers or whatever you wanna call us. We’re replaceable,” Jacobi said as he settled in, pulling a reflective emergency blanket up under his chin.

Warren didn’t respond. He watched while Jacobi quickly fell asleep.

He couldn’t argue Jacobi’s point, because he wasn’t wrong.

Warren rubbed his temples and looked over the sleeping forms of his crew. He couldn’t exactly say he was fond of them. Though he did appreciate their cohesiveness in the latest missions. They worked together so perfectly, and replacing one piece of a puzzle would be difficult if it ever came to that. He didn’t even want to think about how impossible a task that would be if either Jacobi or Maxwell went down. The other would be impossible to work with after that.

He eventually fell asleep sitting up, leaning back against the wall with his head slumped over against a tiny chest of drawers.

Jacobi was hungover in the morning, and they had to delay their departure while he hovered on the edge of being sick for several hours.

Once they had properly staged the corpse for a possible discovery, the team suited up to set off toward their heli pickup location. Before they set off, Warren nudged Jacobi’s shoulder.

“Take this, you absolute child,” he said, holding out a pair of dark sunglasses.

Jacobi looked like he had been offered the holy grail. He quickly put on the glasses and pulled his balaclava into place. “Jesus...I could kiss you right now.”

“Uh huh. Save it for later,” Warren grumbled, and began to lead the group. The glare of the sun on the snow made Warren’s eyes and head ache within twenty minutes of walking.

 

“They’re not going to come out of there, Colonel,” Maxwell sighed. "Their security measures are too good for them to risk running right into our fire."

“Hm...I think you’re right. Jacobi, the charges are all set?”

“Uh...” Jacobi looked off toward the compound, then back at Warren. “They are. But that’s for destroying the evidence.”

“And now it’ll do double duty and dispose of the witnesses as well,” Warren smiled down at Jacobi. “Bring it down.”

Jacobi lifted his chin. “Look, I’ve done a lot of bad shit for you, but we know for a fact they have their daughter in there. I’m not doing it.”

“That was their mistake. The mission objective hasn’t changed. Now do as I said, Mr. Jacobi.”

Jacobi took a deep breath. “No. You do it.”

What a disappointment. “This is your job, Jacobi. Would you like to sit out here for months until they run out of their food reserves? And then risk gunning down the little girl in the crossfire? And even if we did manage to avoid killing her, by the way, she’d be orphaned, parents murdered right in front of her eyes. Or would you like to just let them all go quickly and together? Which one sounds more humane to you?”

“I...I can’t pull the trigger on this one, Kepler.”

Warren grabbed Jacobi’s jaw and pulled him closer, ignoring the sound of protest he made. He could see in his peripheral the other crew members looking away from the scene. “I gave you an order. My word is law; there is no room for discussion.”

Jacobi wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Daniel.”

That worked. Jacobi reluctantly looked at him, jaw muscles tensing beneath Warren’s fingertips.

“I need you to do this for me, Daniel.”

Jacobi drew in a sharp breath and looked away again, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

Warren released his jaw and moved to take Jacobi’s face in both hands, taking a different approach. “Look at me.”

Jacobi did, a tear sliding down his cheek.

“Your job is to do what I say. It’s my call, and what happens has always been on me.” Warren decided to take it a step further, brushing away the tear with his thumb. “Now do it.”

Jacobi yanked himself away from Warren and wiped his face on his sleeve before kneeling in front of his computer.

Warren watched with arms folded as Jacobi checked to be sure each device was armed. Then, with one press of a button, every charge detonated.

The team watched the structure begin to crumble as supports were destroyed. A steady cloud of dust began to climb into the sky.

Jacobi slammed his laptop shut and gathered up his equipment. He stood and made eye contact with Warren for just a moment before marching forward, shoving roughly past Warren to get to the helicopter.

Warren watched him, a frown beginning to take shape. “You three go check the site. Make sure they didn’t get out.”

He didn’t wait for their response before following Jacobi. He found him securing his equipment in the cargo hold.

“What the fuck is your problem, Jacobi?”

Jacobi turned around, hands balled into fists. “Take a guess, Colonel.”

“Calm down.”

“No! You piece of shit, don’t fucking tell me how to react to this!”

“Watch your mouth.”

Jacobi stood there, breathing heavily as he glared at Warren. Then, he shoved Warren away and screamed in frustration.

Warren took a few steps back to steady himself.

“Fuck you!”

“You’re going to want to control your emotions, Jacobi. You’re acting like a child.”

“No, you just forgot what feelings are like because you’re...you’re a god damn monster!”

Warren raised a brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes. And maybe we’re all monsters. But at least I don’t fucking enjoy it, I don’t revel in it like you do! God, you could have detonated those yourself, but you just fucking get off on making me do it, don’t you? You know I’ll do it and you love that control.”

“I have to know that my team mates will follow my orders no matter—“

“Stop calling us that. It’s ridiculous. We’re not your fucking team mates; we’re your subordinates. Just be honest about it. Your stupid tricks don’t work; I have no delusions about what’s really going on here. You manipulate and use people, and honestly, Warren, it’s exactly what we all expect. So just give up the whole act already.”

“Fine." Warren leaned closer. "Get in the helicopter and wait for our return. When we get back to HQ, you’re pulling early shifts in the training room to make up for your mouth. Don’t ever step out of line like that again. And if you ever hesitate to carry out my orders again, I’ll drop you right back to the bottom of the ladder and you’ll be mopping floors and cleaning my guns for the rest of your miserable life. Do I make myself clear?”

The mask of detachment had settled back onto Jacobi’s features. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Warren took a deep breath and straightened. “Good.”


	2. Shift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this finished and out there ore the new ep goes up tomorrow. I’m so nervous about what’s gonna happen lmao

The ride back to HQ was tense, and the following debriefing was quieter than usual. That period of limbo between missions seemed to stretch on for ages this time. Warren didn’t like the feeling of being avoided by his own agents, so after a week of seeing nothing of Maxwell or Jacobi, he decided to do something about it.

“Dr. Maxwell! There you are...you been hiding from me?”

Maxwell set down a project folder and crossed her arms. Warren could feel the ice in her stare as she looked him over. “Oh...Colonel. Do you need something?”

“Well...I finally have our next assignment. This time it’s just going to be you, Jacobi, and myself. So I‘d like to speak to him so I can tell him all about it. Do you know where he is?”

“I might have an educated guess. What sort of mission?”

“Long haul. To Wolf 359.”

Maxwell’s brow furrowed. “That’s...a star. I thought we had a crew up there already.”

“That’s correct.”

Now her eyes widened and she grinned. “Are you telling me we’re going to space?”

He couldn’t help but smile in response.

“That’s what I’m telling you.”

“I...that’s wonderful. When? I’m sure we’ll have to go through all new training and I’ll have to—“

“Maxwell. We have a month, and yes, you’ll receive a brand new training itinerary later today. Now, Jacobi?”

“He likes to organize when he’s stressed out. I’m sure you’ll find him tearing a room apart to put it back together again.”

“All right...thanks, Alana.”

“Uh huh, no problem, Warren.” Maxwell rolled her eyes and returned to her research.

 

“Mr. Jacobi...looks like Maxwell was right.” Warren picked his way through the messy workshop to an unoccupied stool.

Jacobi did not look up at him.

Warren frowned and folded his arms. Perhaps he’d crossed a line, and this once, he should admit it. “Look, I know the last mission was rough. I know you had to do things you thought were unnecessary...and maybe I should’ve heard you out before making the final call. But I didn’t. And you did the job anyway. I admire your uh...dedication.”

Still no response.

“Jacobi, Cutter has given me a priority one assignment. Wants me to cherry pick my team. I want to take you and Maxwell.”

There was a moment where Warren was tempted to pick up a wrench and throw it at Jacobi’s head. But he grit his teeth. “I’m sorry, Daniel. Is that what you want to hear? Because if that’s what it takes, then fine. I’m sorry I belittled you in front of the team. You’re brilliant and I shouldn’t have tr—“

“Are you talking to me?”

Warren froze mid-sentence. Jacobi was looking up at him from his position crouched in front of a tool cart, earbud dangling from his fingertips. Only now did Warren hear the barely audible buzz of music. The bastard hadn’t heard any of it.

“Colonel?”

A smile spread over Warren’s face. He almost laughed at how sentimental things had gotten simply because Jacobi, his employee, was mad at him. “Yes, Mr. Jacobi, I was. Just came by to let you know we have a briefing at 0600 hours tomorrow morning. You, me, and Maxwell.”

“Right. Where is our next field trip taking us?”

“Space, Daniel. You should report in for your physical asap.” Warren gracefully slide from the stool and made his way back toward the exit, stepping over tools and boxes of equipment.

“Just the three of us? And you picked _me_? Don’t you think someone more experienced with close quarters combat would—“

“I picked you, Jacobi. Are you doubting my decision?” He raised a brow.

“No, sir...” Jacobi grumbled.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early,” Warren said in that sing-song voice that he knew everyone hated.

 

“So, Warren...what would you like to do about this little problem?” Mr. Cutter stood in front of Warren, leaning back on his desk and wearing his signature smile.

Warren shrugged. “I’ll deal with it shortly. It won’t be a problem for much longer.”

“I sure hope so. If this problem decides to take anything public before you can—“

“I assure you, he won’t have the chance.”

“That’s what I like to hear, Warren. So, on a lighter note, I see you’ve selected Maxwell and Jacobi to accompany you on the Urania. Maxwell I perfectly understand, but Jacobi? Do you expect to require his skills?”

“The crew of the Hephaestus has been getting jumpy for a while. We don’t know what they’re capable of. I need my most trustworthy agents. And besides, if reasoning doesn’t work, Jacobi’s expertise might do nicely for negotiations.”

“Hm, I suppose...but Dr. Park is rather talented in hand to hand. Last I heard, Jacobi wasn’t quite up to par in that department.”

“I greatly admire Dr. Park, but I can make up for Jacobi’s lack of combat skills myself. And Hilbert will be there to assist should medical issues arise.”

Cutter sighed and reached out a hand and stroked Warren’s cheek. “All right. I’ll stand behind your decision. Now can you go play exterminator for me? I’m getting a little antsy about the whole thing.”

“Of course, sir.” Cutter folded his hands over his lap and Warren stood. “Right away.”

 

Warren found Maxwell and Jacobi in the cafeteria, hunched over their lunches chatting conspiratorially.

They both looked up at him, pausing their conversation about zero gravity living.

“We have a situation. Let’s go.”

The wonder twins exchanged a look before standing to follow him.

In Warren’s office, they sat, watching him pace.

“So...whenever you’re ready to share, we’re all ears,” Jacobi said, adjusting his glasses.

Warren stopped and folded his arms. “We have a rat.”

“At Goddard?” Maxwell asked.

“Closer to home,” Warren clarified, “on our own team.”

Jacobi and Maxwell looked at each other, concern apparent on their faces. He knew they trusted each other implicitly, and were trying to work out which of the other two could possibly be their betrayer.

“It’s Lieutenant Walter.”

They both sighed. Then Maxwell spoke up. “We should get Sun in here. She’ll want to be a part of this.”

“No. We deal with this just the three of us. I want to keep this as close to the chest as possible.”

Jacobi scoffed. “But she’s part of our team. She at least deserves—“

“Daniel. She’ll be informed. But since it’ll be just the three of us on the Wolf 359 mission, you can consider this a team building exercise. We’re going to extract Walter from wherever he is, take him somewhere isolated, and kill him. And besides, this will serve as a warning to Dr. Park about how quickly we can dispose of unfaithful agents.”

“Sun would _never_ ,” Maxwell insisted. “She’s one of us. She cares about us.”

“I believe you’re right,” Warren confirmed. “But it never hurts to make an example. If you two are ready, let’s do this.”

 

Walter sat there, bruised and bleeding, strapped to an old office chair.

Warren massaged his knuckles. “You know, Goddard possesses one of the most elite intelligence agencies in the world, and I run it. Our agents are good at their jobs, Walter. You must have known it’d only be a matter of time until we caught wind of your little meetings.”

“Don’t know what you’re fucking talking about,” Walter spat.

“Don’t play coy, Lieutenant. That last ‘NSA operative’ you spoke with was an old team mate, and personal favorite of mine. Deep under cover. Boy was she sad to deliver me the news.” He punched Walter again, across the cheekbone, enjoying the way blood spattered from his mouth.

“Just kill him already. This is getting boring,” Jacobi muttered.

“Patience, Jacobi. We can’t just let him off easy, now.”

“We trusted you! You lying sack of shit!” Alana pulled the knife from her belt.

“Alana, relax,” Jacobi placed a hand on her shoulder.

She calmed slightly, lowering her arm.

“I’m going to kill you, Leo. I just wanted you to know how completely and utterly you failed before I pull the trigger.” Warren slid the gun from its holster.

Walter rolled his eyes and Warren heard Maxwell huff. A moment later, she surged forward and snatched the gun out of Warren’s hand.

Stupid of him to let down his guard, but then again, he didn’t expect this sort of thing from Maxwell.

“Alana!” Warren went to take the gun back, but she clenched her jaw and shot Walter in the leg.

He screamed through gritted teeth and gripped the arm rests hard.

“Alana...let Kepler do the dirty work. It’s his responsibility.”

“I want to do this, Daniel. It’ll make me feel better,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Warren folded his arms and stepped back. He didn’t mind. In fact, this was preferable to doing it himself. He needed to know she and Jacobi were ride or die for this.

“I put a lot of effort into your birthday gift, you know.” She pulled the trigger again, this time a bullet ripping through his abdomen. Walter screamed again and threw his head back.

“You’re all monsters. Rot in hell,” Walter growled, dropping his head to meet her gaze.

“Save me a spot, will you?” She shot him in the head and he went limp.

Warren stepped forward and took the gun from her hand, stowing it away.

“That was, uh...kind of badass,” Jacobi laughed nervously.

“Yeah? I didn’t know if it would be too cheesy,” her laugh was a little shaky and Jacobi wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Until now, Maxwell had only ever killed in defense.

“Oh yeah, it was totally cheesy,” Jacobi smirked. “Still badass though.”

“Before you two leave...” Warren cleared his throat. “I limited this to the two of you because I needed to know you were both behind me. All in. This mission is a step above anything we’ve ever done. I needed to see that you would not question my intel.”

“Was he even really a rat?” Jacobi asked, showing no sign of emotion.

Warren supposed he shouldn’t feel hurt that Jacobi expected this sort of manipulation from him.

“Yes,” Warren answered quickly. “He was. I wouldn’t dispose of a perfectly good agent just to test you.”

Maxwell’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Good.”

“We’ll stand behind the _mission_ ,” Jacobi said, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “One hundred percent.”

Warren nodded. “I’ll clean this up. Go meet your new instructors. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

 

This wasn’t Warren’s first space rodeo, but he attended training mostly to serve as a refresher and practice for working with the other two in such a drastically different environment.

It was adorable how excited they were. Their time working with Goddard before Warren had recruited them for SI-5 had shown them their fair share of space travel technology. They’d consulted on designs for weapons and equipment for previous launches, and now they’d get to play with the toys they helped create.

The month of training and preparation flew by fast. Halfway through they’d had to be quarantined to ensure they would not taken any illnesses aboard the craft. This meant they lived in the same sterile housing area for two weeks, longer than any mission had forced them together before. Warren supposed it was good practice, even if it gave him daily headaches in the beginning. The trip to Wolf 359 would take months and they’d not have any respite from each other until they intercepted the Hephaestus.

 

“Bing! You are now free to move about the cabin.” Warren unfastened his harness and pulled himself out of the chair using the handholds along the flight console.

“Oh my god...that was so much worse than in training,” Jacobi moaned.

Warren pushed off the console and drifted closer to Jacobi. He was pale, gripping his chair tightly. “You gonna be sick?”

“Maybe.” Jacobi closed his eyes and took deep breaths through his nose.

“God damn it,” Warren muttered, quickly unfastening Jacobi’s harness for him.

“You’ll be fine. Just keep breathing like that and I’ll go get you some water,” Maxwell assured him, pushing out of her chair and gracefully gliding through the air toward the supply box.

“Whatever you do, do not throw up,” Warren commanded.

“Thanks. Making it an order really helps, Warren.”

“Always happy to be of service,” Warren smirked and began easing Jacobi out of his chair.

“No no no. Let’s maybe not do that. Let me just...adjust.”

“If you stay in the chair you won’t adjust. You have to experience it. I’ll get you a bag in case you get sick.”

Jacobi groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, curling into the fetal position and allowing Warren to tow him along.

“Oh come on, you big baby. Check this out,” Maxwell laughed and did a somersault. “It’s so much better than under water.”

Jacobi frowned at her.

“He’ll get used to it eventually.” Warren found a plastic bag and pushed it into Jacobi’s hands. “There.”

“Got your water, Daniel. Just come and take it from me.” Maxwell held up a pouch of drinking water.

“Just float it over to me, you asshole.”

“Nuh-uh.” She grinned. “Come get it.”

Jacobi huffed. “Warren, will you pretty please go confiscate that water from Alana for me?”

‘Hmm...as your commanding officer, it’s my job to encourage you to acclimate to your new environment.”

“What? No, wait!”

Before Jacobi could grab a handhold, Warren kicked off of the wall and pulled Jacobi out toward the middle of the room. He deposited Jacobi in the middle of the space then grabbed a handhold and pulled himself out of reach.

Maxwell snorted.

“This...is not...funny!” Jacobi yelled, rotating slightly in the middle of the pod, just out of reach of any objects or handholds.

“Oh, Daniel...here, I’ll give you your water.” Maxwell reached out and let go of the water pouch, leaving it several feet in front of Jacobi’s face.

He reached forward and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. It was only inches away from his finger tips, and slowly drifting further. “I hate this. And I hate you both so much right now. I swear I’m gonna kill you as soon as I have the chance.”

Warren laughed and pushed himself to Jacobi’s other side, ducking to avoid Jacobi’s attempt to grab onto him. “Come on, Daniel, you just have to wiggle yourself around a little.”

“Computer, boost thrusters 5%,” Jacobi said, glaring at Warren.

There was a kick as the their speed increased slightly.

Maxwell yelped and she and Warren grabbed onto handholds.

Jacobi drifted back to meet the wall as the station lurched forward, and he flipped them off. “Back down to normal, computer.”

Warren knew he should scold Jacobi for wasting fuel, but all he could do was laugh.

“He forgot his water!” Maxwell gasped between laughs.

“I’ll get it elsewhere!” Jacobi yelled as he pulled himself through the opening toward the rest of the shuttle.

 

The Urania was roomy, yet the wonder twins spent a majority of their time in Warren’s presence. It was strange to adjust to, having them around, having things progressively feel more comfortable. He was used to them being there when he had a question or needed something done. They ate meals together for the most part, though Maxwell often got into modes where she spent hours at a console, studying Hera’s coding to prepare for their eventual meeting. In fact, she’d go so long working, she’d forget to care for herself. Warren would drink his coffee and watch Jacobi move around the kitchen, preparing tea and snacks for her. He’d accompany Jacobi to deliver the care package, then they’d leave her be to focus.

Warren liked to supervise Jacobi’s routine checks in the engineering room. Jacobi naturally tended to explain what he was doing, and even though most of it was beyond Warren, he’d listen.

Living in close quarters for so long eventually led to some disagreements. Surprisingly, they’d occur between Maxwell and Jacobi. They’d argue about something that absolutely did not matter to Warren, and he’d have to break up their fights. Other than when he had to exercise his power to put them in time outs, he didn’t feel like a commander here. They all understood each other and, for the most part, worked like a well oiled machine. It felt...good. It was comfortable.

Maybe he should have been a little more strict about them being too familiar once they started dropping the titles and formality in addressing him. But after being called Colonel or Kepler or Sir nonstop at HQ, being called Warren all day made things feel intimate. Intimate in a pleasant, comfortable manner, and never suffocating. He liked the way his name sounded. He liked the way their names sounded. Alana, Daniel. They had such soft names. So, he dropped the formality. Of course, that would have to stop once contact with the Hephaestus was imminent.

 

Warren worked with Jacobi to move food storage to the main node now that their first supply had depleted. Jacobi had been suspiciously quiet throughout.

Before Warren could break the silence, Jacobi turned and looked at him, lips pursed. “You know...you never did properly apologize to me.”

“What...do you mean?”

“I mean, you played it off because I gave you an easy out, but then you never tried again.”

Warren blinked, letting the words settle in. “You heard that whole thing?”

“Yeah,” Jacobi laughed, “I did.”

“So why’d you act like you couldn’t?”

“Because...I guess it felt weird hearing you sounding all penitent and remorseful.”

“I see...”

“So...you wanna try again?” Jacobi asked, opening a food container to take quick stock of the packets inside, though the contents were printed clearly on the outside.

Warren stowed his food containers and moved closer to Jacobi. “I might. You still bitter about that mission?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Jacobi confirmed, looking up at him in challenge. “It’s not like you ever did anything to make up for that day.”

“All right,” Warren cleared his throat. “Daniel...you’re an extremely talented and intelligent individual. You’re invaluable to Goddard Futuristics, and more specifically, to me.”

Jacobi rolled his eyes. “Okay, this is dumb, that’s enough.”

“Oh, I’m not quite done. You asked for this.” Warren sighed and put on a show of remorse that accidentally slipped into genuine regret. “I’m sorry I forced you to carry out unnecessary orders. I’m sorry I belittled you in front of our team. And I’m sorry I didn’t apologize sooner.”

Jacobi cleared his throat and looked away. “Good enough.”

 

The sound of the alarm clock seemed to pierce straight through Warren’s head. He reached his arm out of his sleeping bag and smacked the thing, turning off the alarm. He coughed and pulled the bag tighter around himself, seeking out more warmth. Usually he was comfortable sleeping, but now, he couldn’t find a position that worked. Flat against the wall felt too stiff. Curled onto his side with his feet tucked behind a handhold was too cramped. The sleeping bag felt too hot and stifling one moment, then thin and drafty the next.

“Warren?...Colonel?” Maxwell’s voice came through a haze.

Warren shivered and looked up at her.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Jacobi’s face popped up from behind Maxwell’s shoulder. “Oh, Jesus. You look awful.”

Warren frowned. “I only hit the snooze… Don’t you two have jobs to be—“ A sudden, deep cough caught the words in his throat. Warren groaned and closed his eyes.

“Wonderful,” Maxwell sighed. “He’s sick. On our spaceship. Daniel, grab some masks for us.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“I can’t be sick…there’s no one to catch anything from.”

“Well,” Maxwell began, looking around for the nearest medical kit, “I think I should run a diagnostic on the air purifier. You might have a bacterial infection.”

Jacobi returned wearing a face mask, and handed one to Maxwell. “He looks like shit.”

“Thanks, Jacobi,” Warren croaked, throat and chest aching, “you look pretty today. You too, Maxwell.”

They exchanged a look.

“All right, we’re going to have to ask HQ for help on this,” Maxwell retrieved a thermometer from a med kit and pushed it under Warren’s tongue.

“Hm. If only our brilliant Dr. Park had been included…”

Warren grimaced at the taste of metal in his mouth. “Daniel, it’s a three person job. You know how expensive it is to send people and the supplies they need into space? I’ll be fine in just—“ he was interrupted again by his own coughing.

“Oh dear,” Jacobi’s smirk was obvious even through the mask. “I guess you’ll just have to refrain from talking, Warren.”

“Never.”

Through video call, Dr. Park was able to coach the two functional crew members through taking a culture and preparing slides to check for bacteria. Ultimately, she diagnosed him with bronchitis.

“Okay, Colonel…Sun said we need to kick up the humidity in here so Alana is working on that right now. There’s a whole bag of water pouches right here next to you. Drink them. I’ll come back to give you your next dose of antibiotics when it’s time.”

“And what will you be doing today?” Warren asked.

“Just wanted to work on a detonation switch, maybe draw up some plans.”

“So…theoretically you could use the work table in here for that.”

Jacobi raised a brow. “I…could. But you’re sick, and this mask gets itchy.”

Warren frowned but said nothing.

“…why? Was that your sneaky way of asking me to stay?”

“It might have been.”

Warren didn’t like the sudden smug look on Jacobi’s face. “Is that so? Hm…tell me, Colonel, why do you want me to stay?”

He wasn’t ecstatic about giving Jacobi any satisfaction, but it’d be worth it if Warren got his way. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh…” The smile in Jacobi’s eyes disappeared. “Well…fine. I’ll go get what I need.”

Warren grinned. “See you soon, D—“ He broke down coughing again and cursed his lungs as Jacobi left the pod, snickering.

The next few hours, Warren drifted in and out of sleep. While awake, he’d watch Jacobi work at the desk, muttering to himself once in a while.

Jacobi suddenly lifted his head and looked back at Warren.

Warren lifted a brow in question.

“Oh…thought you might be dead,” Jacobi sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing is eyes.

“No such luck, Mr. Jacobi. Gonna take more than some bacteria to off me.”

“Well, you were just so quiet. Always thought it’d take killing you to get you to shut up. Actually, you’re kinda creepy when you’re quiet.”

“Gee, Daniel, any more criticisms you’d like to share with me while I’m too weak to do anything about them? I’m ugly and creepy now?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jacobi’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “Your stories are terrible. They’re not even convincing, Warren. And the accent? Give me a break.”

“This is my _voice_.”

Jacobi rolled his eyes. “Also, you’re a drama queen.”

Warren laughed, which triggered a coughing attack. He groaned. “You can’t fault me for liking a little drama in my life.”

“We…work for an intelligence agency run by one of the most powerful corporations in the world. There’s plenty of drama.”

“All the world’s a stage, Daniel.”

“Uh huh. Then answer this: how much of the image you’ve worked so hard to cultivate is an act?” Jacobi folded his arms.

Warren pursed his lips. “Zero percent.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t trust me enough to be honest?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Daniel. This is all me, baby.” Warren smirked.

“Yeah…I know that’s bullshit. But fine, tough guy, whatever you say. This mask is killing me. I’m gonna go find Maxwell. Take another dose of your antibiotics and we’ll bring you dinner later.”

“Mm…fine.”

“And…you know you don’t have to be stuck in bed. It’s only bronchitis. So, whenever you feel like being a normal human again, feel free to stretch your legs and care for yourself so we can stop playing nurse.” Jacobi began to put away his things.

“Maybe I like having you play nurse.” Warren watched with satisfaction as Jacobi’s hands paused in their task.

He loved teasing Jacobi. He loved making comments that made him blush or lose his train of thought. It could never be anything more than flirting, though. Cutter would not be happy to learn of any fraternization of that sort within his most elite task force.

Jacobi looked back at him over his shoulder. “Well, too bad. I have more important things to do than baby my perfectly capable commanding officer.”

“Perfectly capable? You’re such a sweetheart, Daniel,” Warren smiled.

“Shut up,” Jacobi grumbled before grabbing his things and moving out of the pod to find Maxwell.

 

Warren checked his watch. Jacobi wasn’t scheduled to be anywhere in particular, but Warren usually found him here.

According to the computer, Maxwell was coming up on her third hour of study.  
Warren frowned and pulled a tea pouch from the beverage compartment. He hydrated the mix and grabbed a bag of dehydrated fruit before pulling himself through the craft to find Maxwell.  
He attached the bags to the Velcro on Maxwell’s work bench.

“Thanks, hon,” Maxwell murmured, grabbing the pouch of tea and taking a sip.

“No problem, darling.”

“Oh.” Maxwell looked over at him. “Where’s Daniel?”

“Not where he usually is.”

“Hm. Would you go check on him for me?” She asked, turning back to her monitor.

“Isn’t that something you would normally do?"

She forced a smile but did not bother to look at him. “I’m a little busy here, Warren, maybe you can give it a shot this time.”

 

Warren knocked as he entered the storage room to which the computer had directed him. “Daniel?”

Jacobi was pressed back against the wall, hands and feet looped under hand holds to keep him firmly in place. He was breathing heavily, eyes closed. “Do you need something, Colonel?”

Warren’s brow furrowed and he moved closer. “What’s your problem?”

Jacobi laughed. “Always know exactly what to say, hm?”

“Fine. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sir. Everything’s great!”

“Don’t sass me, Daniel. What is it?”

Jacobi sighed and opened his eyes. “Do you want to know or do you want me to tell you it’s nothing and that I’ll deal with it myself before it interferes with the mission?”

“Tell me.”

“Yes, sir—“

“It’s not an order. Stop with the cynicism.” Warren pulled himself closer, finding a comfortable position.

“Right...well, I—I think it’s just starting to hit me what we’re risking here. I’m one hundred percent behind this and behind you, but I just rushed into preparation and training without thinking. Really thinking about what we’re doing. We’re in space. Small mistakes lead to people dying and we’re just...here. Floating around in a fucking can in the vastness of space. And in a matter of days we’re going to have to salvage a mission with recruits who’d probably kill us for the chance to go home.”

Warren waited, watching Jacobi’s face as he worked through it.

“I know I don’t have anything back home. I know this is my life. But I think if I’m going to die for this I’d rather do it with my feet on the ground than in the cold, dark vacuum of space.”

“Daniel...”

“Don’t think this is me getting cold feet. I’m going to do my job no matter—“

“This is dangerous,” Warren cut in. “I’m not going to tell you it’s a low risk mission to make you feel better. Once we dock with the Hephaestus, I need you to plant some of your signature fail-safes. Hilbert was ours, but if he’s itching to get back home, he’s smart enough that he could be a serious problem. Minkowski is tough as nails, so I don't expect her to fall in line quietly. But, I will tell you that I am not going to lose any of my crew. I will personally get you home safe so you don’t have to die in the cold, dark vacuum of space.”

Jacobi looked up at him.

“Do you trust me?” Warren asked, pulling himself closer to Jacobi.

Jacobi took a deep breath then nodded slowly. “I trust you.”

“Good...” Warren smiled, thinking for a moment he might just make Jacobi’s day if he kissed him. The idea was tempting, but instead; “There are a few more things we should go over before we go toe to toe with the crew of the Hephaestus.”

With a quick nod of his head, Jacobi extracted himself from between the wall and Warren, and moved toward the main node. “Yep, sounds great. Let’s go.”

Warren smirked and followed. “My office will do nicely.”

 

The crew of the Hephaestus turned out to be more of a nuisance than Warren had expected them to be. And, of course, everything changed when Warren came face to face with Captain Isabel Lovelace. This, he certainly hadn't expected. With an obvious threat in front of them, Warren and his crew fell back into their usual rhythm.

Things went back to normal, like during any SI-5 mission, but only now Warren realized he was no longer satisfied with their normal. They addressed each other professionally, and their time was rarely spent together outside of coordinated repair efforts.

Maxwell made Hera her pet project. Jacobi made everyone else on the ship hating him his pet project. And Warren did what he did best, and intimidated the Hephaestus crew into behaving...for the most part.

Then, Warren doubted Jacobi, ignoring his concerns in the face of a developing mutiny, and everything fell apart.

Hilbert was dead and another room of the Hephaestus out of commission. Lovelace was killed. A mutiny had been successfully staged against Warren’s crew mere hours from the contact event, which had gone to shit. Lovelace was back again and apparently a walkie talkie for the aliens. Warren’s hand had been removed. But most importantly, Maxwell was dead.

Warren sat in his improved cell, left wrist cuffed to a handhold to keep him in place. He stared at his right wrist, where his hand used to be. The hand he held weapons in. The hand that poured his drinks. The hand that comforted Jacobi, convinced him the lives he took were for a good cause.

The door opened and Eiffel pushed Jacobi inside.

Warren watched in silence as the two exchanged words. Jacobi was stone faced. Eiffel looked like hell. Finally Eiffel left and locked them in.

For a long time, Jacobi wouldn’t even look at him. He looked like he was thinking, compiling an argument in his head.

Warren steeled himself. There was definitely an argument coming. The look on Jacobi’s face reminded him of the look he’d warn the day he’d gotten angry and lashed out. The day Warren had taken things a step too far in the field, showed him softness to convince him to commit an atrocity.

It was easy enough to put on the familiar face of detachment and aloofness once Jacobi finally spoke. He was angry that he and Maxwell had been thrust into the situation without being properly briefed on the alien presence.

Warren’s command instinct told him to dismiss it all, so he did.

“Oh, please. I didn’t tell you? Big deal.”

He watched Jacobi’s eyes widen in shock and hurt for a moment before his brow furrowed and anger replaced the surprise once again.

“I just lost command of this station. I just lost a hand. Now you’re gonna sit there—“

“Yes,” Jacobi interrupted, expression settling into cold rage, “now answer the god damn question or I’m gonna tear off your other hand.”

Warren was taken aback. Jacobi had been angry with him before, but he’d never threatened him. He took a deep breath, relaxed, and approached the argument from another angle. Really, he took the cowardly angle. He excused himself from the blame, placing it on clearance level and protocol.

He even slipped, giving in to Jacobi’s anger enough to try to sooth him with pretty words. Trying to make him feel special for being part of this team, for being hand picked. But it didn’t work.

“You talk about faith and respect…but it doesn’t feel that way on this side. You know how I feel? I feel...used.”

It was fair enough. Warren had tried to convince his agents they were a team, but they’d seen through it from the beginning. Goddard was using them. But now, Warren suddenly didn’t want to admit it.

“I feel…I feel—no, no no, I feel experimented on.”

“You’re being absurd,” Warren insisted.

“You treated me like _one of them_!”

Warren stared at Daniel, barely catching his next few sentences as he thought.  
He was right. Warren had shown them only part of the picture. Jacobi and Maxwell had followed him all the way here with only half the story, eventually believing after those three months together aboard the Urania that were so different from any other missions, that they were a team, a single unit built on trust. Even, Warren thought for just a fleeting moment, like a family. And that had led them to this moment.

“And I knew that you’d be able to deal with it,” Warren muttered, his mind catching up to Jacobi’s accusations about manipulation and neglect.

Jacobi was angry, yelling at him now. Warren tried to hold his ground through the argument, even knowing he was wrong. He knew how much hearing his own voice, panicked and begging, coming from a duplicate would fuck with Jacobi’s head. He knew that he could have helped Jacobi mentally prepare for the possibility. But he hadn’t. So why was he still defending himself? Why couldn’t he just admit it he had been wrong for Jacobi’s sake? He looked so broken, hurt, vulnerable. And Warren realized he didn’t like seeing him this way. Jacobi wasn’t just ‘one of them’, so why couldn’t he act like it?

He wanted to give up, to tell Jacobi he was right, but instead Warren seized on a thought, sighing. “You didn’t kill Maxwell, Jacobi.”

Jacobi was taken aback. He stared at Warren.

“Neither one of _us_ did.”

It didn’t deter him. Jacobi was angry with him and that wouldn’t change with one attempt to shift the conversation, to play into Jacobi’s obvious guilt. Jacobi persisted, driving home his point.

In the end, all Warren had to defend himself with was, “I had my orders.”

He regretted saying it as soon as the words left his mouth. Warren, the Director Of Intelligence for Goddard Futuristics, sounded like just another pawn. And Jacobi easily caught onto that. In fact, he looked delighted to realize that Warren wasn’t even in control of himself.

Warren hated the way Jacobi was looking at him now. Like his commander was less than he was before, like he’d seen through some illusion.

 

Warren felt a surge of pride and relief when his officer ordered Minkowski to unholster her gun. They’d take back the ship together. They’d get back on track and Warren would be able to sway Jacobi’s opinion of him. Warren could do things right this time, and everything would go back to the way it should be.

And then. “Now shoot him.”

The colonel’s face must have resembled Minkowski’s. He felt the confidence drain from his expression as he looked over at Jacobi. He didn’t understand the play here; Jacobi had the Hephaestus crew where they wanted them, and all he had to do was take the gun.

When he told her again to do it, then a third time, Warren waited for Jacobi to reveal some trick. To make everything make sense.

Even though confidence and a lack of humor was plain on Jacobi’s face, it still took too long for the reality of the situation to set in. Jacobi hated him. He wanted him dead.

Warren tried to argue of course, to will the situation to change, but Jacobi was too far gone. All Warren wanted right now was for Jacobi to smirk at him like they were sharing a secret. He wanted to hear Daniel call him Warren again. To go back to that morning in the storage room of the Urania and kiss Daniel, show him he wasn’t just ‘one of them.’

But it was too late. Warren had lost both of his agents. He was alone again.

 

Faced with Miranda Pryce, Warren realized how much he missed Alana. He missed the way she’d never quite submitted to his or Goddard’s control after so long under their employ. She was passionate and independent and refused to be made a weapon. Warren had taken her for granted; this brilliant woman who had chosen to stand behind him, to carry out his orders.

He’d taken Daniel for granted too. Warren should have known that Alana being gone would change everything. Of course Daniel would hate him for her death. He was their commander; he was responsible. For everything. Following his orders was supposed to keep them alive.

And now Daniel was just another asset. Usable, disposable like Eiffel and Minkowski. It made Warren sick to see him following orders with a smile and a “yes, sir!”

Jacobi sat there, like a puppet, while Warren was strapped down for debriefing. Warren couldn't help but look at Daniel when Cutter asked him how old Alana had been.

Warren ignored the question, watching Daniel instead. He hated what they'd done to him. He would rather see the man furious and passionately hating him than smiling like nothing mattered.

"She was twenty-eight!" Jacobi answered cheerfully and Warren’s blood boiled.

Pryce knew what she was doing by shoving this in his face. She knew it would rattle him to see Jacobi this way. But she was wrong if she thought it would cow him into obedience.

Warren was amazed when instead of being fitted with an implant like Daniel's, he was given a new hand.

With this new gift, Warren’s objectives shifted. He was going to get Daniel home, even if he had no Maxwell to go home to. Even if Warren couldn't go with him.

He tested out his hand. It worked perfectly.

 

Warren did as he was told, was an exemplary soldier for Pryce and Cutter. He could work things in Daniel’s favor from the inside.

So, when he ended up stuck on a pod in a decaying orbit around the star, away from Daniel, away from where he could make a difference, Warren almost panicked.

It was some sort of cosmic irony that Daniel was the one in charge of their rescue. He could easily blow the chances they had to be reunited with the rest of the ship, and send Warren, along with Minkowski, Eiffel, and Pryce to their fiery deaths.

Warren knew the idea would appeal to Daniel in his current state of mind. He’d attempted to have Warren killed once already. He wasn’t particularly fond of Pryce, or Minkowski and Eiffel either when it came down to it.

So, in order to avoid reminding Daniel of how much he hated Warren, Warren kept his mouth shut…for the most part.

Daniel sounded too casual, upbeat for the situation. He wasn’t even trying. His shots missed the first time around.

Warren couldn’t help himself. “Steady.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Finally, Daniel hit his mark. But he needed to do it one more time.

“Jacobi, you need to land another line now before we move out of range,” Warren said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He gripped his chair and stared toward the wall, as if he could see past it, to Daniel manning the launcher.

There was silence on the comms. Then from Lovelace, “Jacobi?”

Warren was convinced this was it. Daniel had made his decision and was going to let him die. His throat felt tight and his heart began to race.

“Ugh, God damn it,” Daniel huffed and finally fired another torpedo, which embedded in the hull, tethering the pod back to the main structure.

Relief flooded Warren’s veins.

They all returned to the Urania, Warren and Pryce as hostages of Minkowski and Eiffel.

Things moved quickly from there. Minkowski’s crew enacted some convoluted yet miraculously successful plan. They took the Urania by force, destroying its connections to the Hephaestus, transferring Hera onboard.  
Warren put on a convincing enough show for Pryce and Cutter. He had even managed to make them think he’d neutralized Lovelace in the escape.

When Cutter and his crew attempted to make the return trip home to intercept the others before they could do so first and damage the company, they were met with a proximity mine explosion in the engineering room. Cutter was burnt badly. Riemann lost a leg. Warren took a few bits of shrapnel in the blast, but ultimately, all he felt was pride in Daniel.

Repairs took months. Long enough for Daniel and his new crew to be close to home. They’d made it through more near death experiences than they could count, and all they’d have to do was make it safely to the planet.

 

Seven months later, Warren sat in the back of a cab, right arm tucked under his coat, cradled against his chest. He was going to see a Mr. Robert Maxwell in a town called Hoquiam, Washington.

It was raining.

Warren laughed. He didn’t mind the rain, but he knew ‘Mr. Maxwell’ hated it. Hopefully it wouldn’t put him in too foul of a mood for when they met.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've listened to Mini Ep 14: One of Them about 50 times now and it hurts so good every time.
> 
> Also, I’m just about finished with chapter 2 of the next part in the series. Chapter one has already been up for a while and I just couldn’t leave it open ended.


End file.
